


All I Ask For Is: SPOTS

by CevvyDemandy



Category: 101 Dalmatians (1996), Disney - All Media Types, Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Crimes & Criminals, Disney Multiverse, Disney World & Disneyland, Evil Queen - Freeform, F/M, Fashion & Couture, Guns, Hades - Freeform, Im going to ruin your childhood, Magic, Magic collars that turn animals into people, Maleficent - Freeform, Multi, This is more on the funny side, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21527740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CevvyDemandy/pseuds/CevvyDemandy
Summary: The art of being cruel is not an effortless accomplishment that just anyone can achieve. It takes time, dedication, charm, a silver tongue, and damn near 101 dalmatians.  However, with a new face slowly working their way up the fashion latter. The cruellest of them all is not happy being second best to some brat who can barely cut a straight line. You should never send a dog to do a human's work, but what other choice do you have when you have a business to run? Let's just hope the said dog doesn't lose his loyalty to his rightful owner. Or else it's back to the dog pound and no more designer collars.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character
Kudos: 6





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I'm starting another story!  
> Gives me a mega break from my WonkaVerse story and I can slip into Disney  
> Disclaimer: Mr. Dalmatia a character for Disney's Halloween time in Tokyo, he is Cruella's residence

_** [10 years ago] ** _

"Goddamnit! Jasper, Horace! Get over here and do something right for once in your pitiful lives!" Cruella called over her shoulder as she blew smoke from her nose. She was on her wit's end and her last cigarette, which meant if one more thing went south, she was going to shot somebody. The two unlucky knuckleheads dragging their feet behind her were going to be the bullet boards she aimed at.

Tonight was another fashion heist which meant they broke into a rivals workshop and stole each and everything. Finished designs, unfinished designs, sketches, fabric, notes, you name it Cruella came through and swept the place cleaner than it was. On top of that, she never had to worry about getting caught. The cameras were frozen, but the timestamps changed, and every alarm was disarmed, so when they walked through the doors, it was pure silence. Cruella red lips curled in a smirk as she turned around as she heard small footsteps coming towards her. A precious six-year-old boy with big grey eyes and half white hair strolled over to her with the biggest smile. He was dressed in a black and whiteboarding school type uniform with red suspenders. Since it was colder in England, he donned a black and white fur coat that matched Cruella's and a fluffy pair of red fur earmuffs. This little darling was Cruella's pride and joy ever since she adopted him. Even with his weird freckles that looked like spots and creepy mimicry of her aesthetic, Cruella loved him dearly even though she knew nothing of the powers he possessed.

"Dvius! My little baby, I'm so proud of you taking care of those nasty cameras and alarms. Up you go!" She moved her cigarettes holder between her fingers so she could pick him up. She huffed a bit from how heavy he was becoming but still managed to place him on her hip. The little boy didn't talk much-matter of factly he didn't talk at all. Cruella prefered it, considering the low tolerance she had for children in the first place. She kissed his cheek right on his giant freckle and nuzzled his hair. In a split second, she turned her head back towards Jasper and Horace and started yelling again.

"You idiots! I said grab the spring collection not the damn winter, you can't do anything!" She marched over to the men and smacked them with the butt of her purse. Divus giggled and snapped his fingers, so a magical toy hammer poofed in the middle of the air and attacked them too.

"Oi! Even the brat attacks us." Jasper grumbles and covers his head as best he could.

"This magical nonsense is gonna drive me up a wall, ya." Jasper added just before he took a blow to the eye.

"One more word about Divus and I'll shot you in the foot." Cruella narrowed her eyes menacing at the men then turned away. She walked over to the front of the studio and peered out to the rising sun. The child in her arms yawned, and she smiled softly then kissed his forehead again as he cuddled into her side.

"Alright, ma'am we're loaded up and ready," Jasper said, walking towards the door with boxes in hand and his brother trailing behind him.

"Finally." Cruella huffed another drag from her cig and blew it away from the child on her side. 


	2. Young and Beautiful

"And if you ever decide to show your face in any establishment from here on out in those knock-off Sophia Webster butterflies. I'll dog walk you up and down Manhattan on all fours like the little bitch you are!" Cruella snatched her handbag away from the terrified young woman that stood in front of her. Her words melting the girl's skin as they played like a broken record in her ears. Cruella's eyes were red hot, and her intense glare left nothing of the imagination of how upset, no, furious she was. This all started with a deal between designers and a faulty payment. Cruella made it clear that if the other party couldn't keep up their end of the trade, she would personally pay their company a visit. So here she was, dressed in her finest fur and gown, working off her tenth cigarette in New York giving not only the CEO but also the interns a piece of her mind. If they had only had her money, she could have stayed across the waters in her luxurious penthouse enjoying setting fire to fashion magazine that didn't have her face on them.

"Dominique, here boy!" She yelled through the intern to the large fashion studio. In seconds a full-grown dalmatian came strutting through the rows of fabric with a chime from its collar. The dalmatian had a notebook in its mouth and a dress on its back that dragged across the floor. Once the dog made his way in front of his master, he sat on his back legs, wagging his tail. "Ahh, what's this?" Cruella bent down and held her hand out of the book as well as lifting up the dress. Cruella's eyes twinkle as she read the title and then looked over the asymmetric drape dress.

"Y-you can't-"

"I will take whatever I shall please from this abyss of a company you call a fashion ring. If your wonderful boss wants to settle this before I run him into the dirt. He knows how to find me." Cruella bent down and put the book back in the dog's mouth and snapped her fingers for him to leave out the building. She tucked the dress under her arm then took a long draw from her half burnt-out cigarette before dropping it to the floor and stomping it out under her red pumps. She leaned in close to the young woman and blew the smoke in her face. "As for you, I suggest you learn your stitches and folds before walking around like Pippi Longstockings."

Cruella turned on her heels with grace and pushed up her drapping fur coat and strode out the room. She looked over her shoulder once more to place fear in everyone than slammed the door hard, so hard it knocked a pinboard off the wall.

An all black car awaited the cruel woman, ready to speed off if even the signal. Once Cruella got inside she knocked on the roof and driver started down the road. Mere seconds into the ride, Dominique placed his head in his master lap so she could pet him. Cruella rolled her eyes at how clingy the pup could be but caved into his request. Dominique was a parting gift from her adoptive son Divus before he left to go to some magical college he was accepted into. It was the same college the Evil Queen's nephews went to along with a couple of other associates relatives. Divus had promised that Dominique would be just as loyal and obedient as he was and that whenever she got lonely, she would have someone there for her. Of course, Cruella dismissed the idea of her ever needing company, but when Divus kissed his mother goodbye, she for once felt her heart drop with sadness.

The cruel woman looked down at the dog and smirked, he was just as obedient and smart as her darling Divus, but he was simply just a dog she took care of. If he had been a human, he would be a lot more helpful -hell even a magical dog would be more useful. But a dog was a dog and Dominique was one 100 present all of that. Cruella saw the notebook behind the dog and reached for it, she'd only scanned the cover when they were in the studio; hopefully, the dog found something good. She used one ruby red gloved hand to open the cover and the first thing she saw the header.

_**Fashion week line up designs for the next Big Fours.** _

A loud gasp rang through the car spooking the driver to slam on the breaks. Cruella cursed at him as he quickly tried to apologize and keep driving. Dominique shot up from her lap, ready to attack anyone who hurt his master. When he saw they were still in the car, he looked over to his master trying to find why she made that sound.

"Oh, Nique! You brilliant boy! You brought mommy the best thing in the world. Did you know what this was?" Cruella lights up like the stars as she asked the dog. He only barked and she took it as a yes. She pulled him in to kiss all over his face, leaving red lips all over his fur. Dominique grew happy and jumped in her lap, licking her and wagging his tail everywhere. He loved when she praised him for doing a good job, and he loved making her the happiest she could be. The pair laughed and cheered for their newfound treasure for a few moments until the car came to a stop. The back door opened, quickly stepped aside for his passengers' to get out. Cruella whistled for Dominique to get off her lap and go then she followed after fixing her dress and hair. She dug through her purse for a moment to find her compact mirror to fix her make up.

"Miss Del Vile?"

"Hmmm?"

"Your plane leaves at 10 am tomorrow, would you like to leave at 9 in the morning?" The driver tried his best to not sound as scared as he felt. He had been the older women's punching bag the whole week she's been in the states, and the last thing he wanted was to be yelled at.

"No, we will leave at 8 sharp. This is New York, you idiot, if I wanted to be stuck in morning traffic I would be poor." Cruella slammed her mirror shut and rolled her eyes. Clearly, no one had class like her in this dreaded place, and this was supposed to be the classiest of class. The driver just nodded and hurried to close the door behind her and quickly get in the car to drive away.

Cruella was tall, beautiful, stunning, and the devil in high heels that would make you wish your mother was there to hold you. She wore large fur coats made from the finest of animals she handpicked. She had a strong jawline that could make men fall to their knees if they didn't know already from the verbal beating she gave them. Her hair entered the room before her from how striking it was. Born with half her head completely white before the grace of old age made her stand out. She used that to her advantage when conquering money mines and riding the elevator up to success. No one dared tried her. She was a force of power no one wanted to backstab. When she came through any room, no one dared to make eye contact which boosted her ego higher than it already was.

The lobby froze in fear, and the soft clicking of Cruella's heels and the paws of Dominique were the only things that made a sound. Dominique ran to the elevator and stood on his hind legs to press the up button with his nose.

"Thank you, darling."

When they got to the very top of the hotel to the penthouse, Curella kicked off her heels and dropped her fur coat to the clean polish floor. She remembered the dress she held in her hands and threw it onto the kitchen island she passed by to get to the living room.

**Bark. Bark. Bark.**

"What is it, Nique? Why are you barking?" Cruella followed her pet's call and went to the bedroom. On the bed was a bright red box topped off with a beautiful black and white bow and a note with a cursive 'C' painted on it. "What the hell is this? I thought I said no welcome gifts." The woman snarled and yanked the note off the box and read it. Her expression fell from annoyance to flattery.

_Hello Mamma,_

_I know how busy you are with destroying peasants rivals and putting them in their places. Such a cunning woman like you deserve everything you want. From your dazzling attire to your beautiful long hair._

"He flatters me Nique."

_Therefore, I'll keep it quick and straight to the point. I know how troubling it must be to have a lack of extra hands with me being away. So I crafted something that will fill in for me and my absence. A new set for a certain someone who has been barking to have them._

_P.S: Schooling is terrific, I'm a teacher now, I'm also engaged how wonderful._

_Your dashing son, Divus_

"How unfortunate for the poor soul that has to marry my son. Oh well." She chuckled at her own joke then looked over the note than to the box. Cruella smiled then eyed the box in burning curiosity. Divus always sent gifts every now and then, mostly were jewels and hair pens that Cruella wore proudly. But with what the note said there was no telling what this could be. She placed the note down and undid the tied bow on the box and removed the lid. She reached in and pulled out a shiny red collar with a gold buckle, on the inside was a fancy engraving of 'Dominique' and an outline of a small paw print. Cruella's eyebrows knotted as she tried to figure out what this collar was for until she catches sight of her furry friend sitting attentively on the floor. She held the collar up stilling trying to figure out what was suppose to happen.

"Divus you devil what are you up to?" She bent down and snapped her fingers for Dominique to come closer. The dog came happily and lower his head for her to unfasten his collar. The bell collar falls to the floor in a 'clink', and she buckled the new one around his neck. Cruella thought for a second some magical madness was going to flood the room like when Maleficent made an entrance at the portal meetings. But nothing happens, and Cruella scrunched up her nose in disappointment. Well, that was highly lacklustre, she got back to her feet and sighed.

"Guess he was just dolling you up Nique. You brother can be surely full of it sometimes. I taught him well." Nique barked in response and ran around in circles. He surely was a happy dog, in a better mood than Cruella could ever muster up to be in. He was like Divus in a way, the reason she took up calling them brothers, a bit of fun. "Well I'm off for a soak and then bed, today was a shit show, and I'm ready to go home. Night my sweetest." Cruella wandered off into the bathroom and Nique made his way to his travel bed that was more like a twin bed for a very spoiled dog. It was a black frame with real gold trimming, his name was painted on the headboard and footboard, the mattress was handmade of the most delicate fabrics and pushed with feathers. There were columns on the four ends and a canopy over the top. The hotel didn't even allow pets, but with the personality that threatens to shut them down, they happily carried the dog's bed up to the penthouse. Nique's lifestyle would put Pairs Hilton's Tinkerbell to shame if she still be alive.

Nique worked himself under his covers and laid his head on the doggy pillow. He was already half asleep when he heard the water drain from the tube and the bathroom door open and shut as his master made her way to her bed. The lighten went off, and Nique was quickly fast to sleep. 

~~~

This bed...was too small. Uncomfortable and annoying to lay on. Why was their head hurting? Freezing. It was freezing, and they remembered going to bed under the covers. The person lolled to their side, blinking a couple of times trying to get their vision together. They felt something fall against their face and panicked, they fell back on their butt then panicked, even more, when they saw their hands and legs. Their legs? Their hands?

"The hell is going on?" The voice that came out their throat made them cover their mouth quickly. They looked around and saw that it was still dark out and they were still in the same room as before. Somehow they got to their wobbly legs, like a baby giraffe right after birth, they held themself against the wall and looked for the nearest reflective item. They stumbled around in the dark until they were sure they were in the bathroom. They struggled to find the lights, finally when they flicked the switch up the blinding lights came on, they whimpered and bucked their head. When they adapted to the light, they looked in the mirror and the face staring back at them was evidently not their own. They were pale like porcelain, peppered with different size black spots that arranged themself perfectly. Their eyes were hot red and charmingly haunting with matching red lashes, a squared and robust face shaped by asymmetrical bob with white streaks. Cupid bow lips and a sharply pointed nose that only looked good on them. The stranger ran their hands over their face, amazed at how beautiful their reflection was. This was them? Really them? Amazing.

"Who the fuck are you?" The stranger turned towards the door and was greeted to Cruella, pointing a gun right towards them.

"Mamma, what's going on?" Cruella narrowed her eyes then looked the stranger over again, never putting down her gun. She saw the red collar around the stranger's neck and her shoulder dropped.

"Fucking hell Divus. This was your big idea?"


	3. || Buy Me Lots of Diamonds||

Jewels are a girl's best friend, that was a known fact across the world and down to the depths of Hades. Jewels were also a dog's best friend from how shiny they were and how easily they could be swallowed. So shiny and different, how could anyone and thing resist them without having to touch them? But Dominique knew better than to shove the crystal oval link necklace in his month now that he was human. That was not a conversation he was willing to have with the jeweller as he tried to parade out the door. Instead, he struck up a conversation while trying it on over his red collar, flirted openly with the young man behind the counter, and when the moment was right slipped the choker into his giant fur coat pocket. The next step was to actually pay for the cheapest pair of fake diamond earrings so he wouldn't be suspicious. The man behind the counter was too entranced by Dominique's eyes to notice.

"Oh darling you've been such outstanding help, these earrings are to die for." Dominique spun around on his heeled boots in the large hand mirror sitting on the counter.

"Y-yes well," the man cleared his throat and blushed as Dominique flashed an award-winning smile. "Of course they would look dashing on a spectacular person like yourself."

"Oh, darling." Dominique batted his eyes and held his cheek in a gloved hand. The giant black and white fur coat fell from his shoulders, giving him a very enticing demeanour. As a person Dominique had a very exotic look- people couldn't help but stare at him no matter where he went. From his hot red eyes and lashes to the large noticeable black spots that mimicked beauty marks. He carried himself like a queen -far better than any king that had ever ruled, walking on his toes with one foot in front of the other. With away in his hips that dared give fantasy to married women and men. His voice melted chains from how hot and smooth he spoke, he was a wet walking dream.

Dominique leaned over the counter to get closer to the man. He reached out a hand and caressed the man's cheek then slipped his fingers under the man's chin. The poor man breath was hitched and broken as he tried to calm down and wipe away the sweat falling from his brow. Nique winked and went back to his own space.

"You are oh, so right! Who else could be me, no one that's who, now how much are these darlings? 600$?"

"Oh no! I mean they are nice but not that nice. They are a mere 120$, were 150$ but they are on sale, but for you, I can knock them down even farther." The jeweller lowered his voice to a whisper as he finished his sentence. Dominique fluttered his eyes and smiled wickedly as he leaned against the counter and nodded.

"For me? You shouldn't have, but you're going to, and I love it." Dominique cooed.

Within moments Nique was swiping a stolen credit card and waltzing out of the shop with a new pair of earrings, a slipped number, and a costly necklace that Nique couldn't wait to give his mamma. Outside waiting were two knuckleheads and a very fancy car. Jasper and Horace looked bored and very annoyed as they leaned against the bumper, flipping a coin at each other.

"Boys time to go, I'm finished for today, and I'm ready to go home."Dominque sang as he quickly snatched the earrings out his ears. He turned to his left and skipped to the trashbin to toss them along with the number. _'As fucking if'_ he thought to himself as he made his way to the car and got into the passenger seat. The henchmen quickly scattered to their places. Nique wanted to say he would drive, but god forbid his mamma allowed him behind the wheel. He was only human for the past four months. He could barely stop barking at people when he gets excited. He knew very little about being a normal human, but he did try his best.

The drive through London was breathtaking in the autumn season, the leaves were many colours and blew through the window like magic. Of course, this was always a sight to see for Nique. He had to stick his head out the window and let the wind run through his hair. When they came to a stoplight, he always blew kisses and winked at some unfortunate soul. Sometimes he got nasty looks other times the other driver was a blushing mess. After a few more minutes through the city, they took a sharp left that brought them to the outskirts. Cruella had recently bought out land to build her studio and warehouse; she even had a brand new mansion constructed just for her selfish high-class needs. But before you could get to those establishments, you had to pass through a large iron gate.

** De Vile Incorporation **

Pick any evil villain curly font you could think of, and there it was above the gate in thin black iron swirls. For Nique, it was a sign he was always so eager to see because it meant he was finally home. Jasper pulled the car around the large drive-in circle. Before he could put the vehicle in park Nique was already jumping out the vehicle clenching his fur coat in one hand and the necklace int he other. Nique ran up the steps and pushed through the door in a hurry. The inside of the studio looked like a mansion as well. The main entrance acted as a waiting room with black and white furniture placed in corners. There is a large grand twin staircase that leads up to the upper levels and in the middle before the split was a large portrait of the cruellest woman of them all.

"Hello, mamma." Nique cooed softly then turned to his heels to go through another set of doors. Each room in the studio was designated for individual articles of clothing, no two rooms dared to overlap. There was even a room for fabric, colour matching, colour correcting, and sewing. You could move an article of clothing to each room, but you couldn't bring that room to the article of clothing. Cruella hated how unruly and unorganized it was and yelled about it all the time. The one time she caught a young man working on a skirt in the skirt room with the sewing equipment, she snatched the skirt and threw it in the fireplace in her office. Just thinking about it made Nique smile harder as she searched for his mamma between the rows of people at crafting tables putting together designs.

"You call this fashion?! I call this your paycheck and then some, get this out of my face before I strangle you with gloves that cost more than your college tuition!"

There she was. In her anger and glory.

Cruella was ageing like fine bitter wine that no one wanted, but everyone got. She wasn't young anymore, very faint wrinkles showed it, nor was she as uppity, but she was still beautiful and breathtaking. Despite the constant chain of cigarettes she smoked throughout the day. Elegant. Arrogant. Transcendent. EAT. She would eat you dead or alive if she found you worthy of her time. And by god was it rare that she found anyone outside of herself and her boys worth of such valuable time.

"If I see one more tree stitch in any of these fabrics I will burn this place down and lock all of you in it like it's 1911!" Nique patted his face and fixed his hair before he walked up the back of his mother with his hands on his heart, hold a very special gift. Curella turned on her heels but stopped short when the tall figure of her youngest blocked her path. Her eyes were red from iris to the sclera, which was a very odd thing a human-like her could do. But she wasn't human at all. Hadn't been since the 1950s, she long so had sold her soul to the devil himself when she was younger to become the person she is today. How fascinating.

"Momma I bought you something I know will cleanse your palate of those low lives behind you," Nique spoke softly but quick, so full of excitement for his mother's reaction to his gift. Cruella's face kept stoic as she held out her red gloved hand. Nique pulled his hands away from his chest and placed the necklace in her hand. Cruella's head didn't move, but her eyes scanned down to her hand. A few seconds past and then her eyes returned to their normal brown, she calmed down and now had a smile across her face.

"Oh, my darling Nique. Did you get this for mommy?" Cruella quickly slipped the choker around her neck and snapped her fingers for a mirror to appear in mid-air.

"Oh yes yes momma, I also brought you another gift, but I want you to open it in your office. I'm sure the next gift will make you even happier." Cruella looked at her son for a moment and sighed and nodded. She snapped her fingers again for the mirror to poof away. She pulled Nique in for a hug and patted his head.

"Another gift? You are spoiling me Nique. First, it was the rose cut Tiffany tiara, diamond gold earrings, then the twin diamond tennis bracelets. Now this and one more? My darling I would think it was my birthday." Cruella pulled away and smiled. It seemed everything was fine now until Nique noticed her eyes starting to travel down to his attire. Her smile quickly faded and her eyes dared to flicker back red. Nique was in so much trouble. "Dominique Dalmantai is _THAT_ aStefano Ricci waistcoat and button set?! You went out and bought Stefano Ricci with my money!" Cruella yelled so loud it echoed outside. Nique flinched and smiled weakly, he always made this mistake, going out and "buying" clothes from rival designers he had no idea his mother hated.

"To be fair momma, I stole this just like everything else, and also I didn't know this was Ricci. I just liked how shinny the buttons looked and took it."

"Take it off right now! I just had made plenty of waistcoats in all colours and shinny buttons for your liking, and you did THIS!" Cruella felt the air around her starting to rise, so she took a step back and brought her hand up then dropped them taking a deep breath. She had to keep her cool, or she really was going to blow the place up

"Oh I know momma, I know, I just like taking shinny things and eating-"

Nique couldn't finish his sentence as he found himself in a very disappointment glare from his mother. He quickly undid the waistcoat and handed to her. Cruella held it in her hands, and in a blink of an eye, it was on fire and burning away. Nique pouted as all the shiny button went away. Not the shiny buttons.

"Now now my baby, go redress yourself and get ready for dinner. We are going out. I prefer not to be a laughing stock because my beloved son doesn't know what to wear." Cruella shooed him off and Nique took his command and left. Oh, how he hated disappointing his mother.


	4. In The Land of Gods and Monsters

The young designer checked her bags frantically like there was a fire. She knew she had placed it inside before getting on the bus. But where was it? There was no way it could have fallen out as she got on. The girl groaned and threw the bag down on the craft bench and hurried over to the balcony that overlooked the living room.

"Auntie, have you seen my sketchbook?" The girl called out desperate for a response. Hopefully, one she wanted to hear.

"No, I haven't." The older woman downstairs called back up. The young girl stomped her foot and hit the railing with an open palm. Cerily Weiler was not having the best day of her life right now, and she wasn't sure if the week was going to get any better. Earlier that day, she was downtown in the shopping central of New York to people watching for ideas. Graduated from fashion school had left her with a lot of free time to go out and try to sketch down new ideas. Unfortantually her brain was stuck in a creative block from the lack of motivation, and she ended up just looking at people do mundane activities. She sat on that bench, treddling her thumbs for two hours trying to find her spark. Trying to find something or someone that could give her the visual push to create.

While sitting there, she had found it, a man with a very abnormal appearance that fit her aesthetic. He stood on two long legs that strolled on heeled red boots dressing in a coloured blocked suit. His body was drowning in a giant fur coat she knew was inappropriate for the weather. Who would wear a black and white fur coat in the middle of spring and not overheat? What really caught her attention about the man was his pale skin with very noticeable black markings. While she watched the man, she could tell she wasn't the only one caught in his trance. The woman that sat in the seat beside her even turned her head to follow this beautiful stranger. Cerily's finger itched to draw something but as soon as she looked down to grab her pencil and sketchbook he was gone.

He was gone and so was her motivation to create. Wonderful. Fucking fantastic. Cerily couldn't take the absent creative abuse any longer and packed herself up to head to the buses. While she waited for the next bus that would take her close enough to where she was staying, she saw the man again. They had locked eyes across the street, at first, it was a quick glance over and then back to whatever they were doing. But Cerily turned her head again and saw that the man took off towards her mere seconds before the street light turned green. He didn't seem to care that drivers were honking at him or the fact someone had to swerve to not hit him. Cerily's heart dropped as fear raced up her back as he got closer and closer. Once he was in front of her, one of his gloved hand shot out and grabbed the sheer fabric of her overlay dress.

"My darling, are you by chance wearing a Ulla Johnson overlay September collection dress?" He asked never missing a bit as the words flew out. Cerily was happy she was a darker skin tone, or she would be red all over. His English accent was so fitting for his appearance and made him even more glorious. Cerily hadn't even heard the question until he looked up at her and she stepped back when she saw his red eyes.

"N-no, actually I made this myself." She answered weakly and now trying to put distance between her and this man. The man got the hint and dropped her dress but not without taking another look at her.

"You did beautiful work, the stitching is a bit off, and you can tell it's not professionally crafted, but from far away you can fool anyone."

"Thank you?"

"Always welcome. Young designers must away complement one another. Now excuse me, darling." With that the man paddled past her, his giant fur coat knocking into her as he did. Cerily was left in a big ball of confusion of what had just happened and if any of it was real. When she heard the screeching of the bus breaks beside her, she shook her head and pushed it to the back of her mind as she boarded and paid her fee.

"Cerily, you have to get ready for dinner." The girl's aunt had made it up the staircase to the open loft turned design studio to gather her niece. Aunt Morticia was everything a dark and mysterious black woman could be. She was tall standing at 6ft without her heels and lean with noticeable curves that made the way she walk seductive. She was a well-established fetish fashionist in the heart of New York City's underground nightlife. Despite a riding crop and a ball gag needing to be an ensemble of accessories she kept near her in a 20-mile reach, Morticia was a socialite that mingled with the famous named designers who had private fetishes no one knew about. Being invited to countless high-end parties and cocktail mingles was a regular weekend activity that Morticia would sometimes decline for a much needed break from weakening 4 inch heels. Her niece Cerily was different but still shared many commonalities. Where Cerily knew what other colours looked like Morticia chose to dress only in black unless it was jewellery. Cerily was 5'6 with much more embarrassing relationship with the art of sex. Instead of lean and polished, Cerily was chubby and flat in places she always thought should have been a bit bigger. That, however, didn't stop her confidence (especially when her aunt made her feel like a queen every waking moment). Cerily was cute and highly fashionable which made up for her rather squishy features and slightly shy personality. 

"I know, but I really need to find my sketchbook, it had all my new ideas in it, and I wanted to get started on them this summer before the presentation in August." Cerily huffed as she checked her bag for the fourth time, knowing it wasn't there. Where could that damn book be?

"Darling, you can look for the book when we get home after dinner. Even if you don't find it, I know you can wipe up brand new designs that would look better than before." Morticia patted the girl's cheek and placed a kiss were her hands were. Cerily didn't want to put up a fuss to the woman who gladly took her in. Aunt Morticia had done a lot for her in the last few years that warranted Cerily from reducing herself to a child to throw a tantrum. "Come on, get ready, I even bought you a new harness to go over your dress. It also came with a spiked tiara that will look godly in your curls." Morticia pulled away and clapped her hands in glee as she imagined how good her niece was going to look tonight. Cerily told her she would, and Morticia left to finish herself before it was time to go. Cerily shut her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to calm her mind from thinking about the book. Having it there at the dinner would be even better if the spark of creativity bit her in the ass. But oh well. She would look for it afterwards and hope that it wasn't somewhere in the middle of downtown being walked over by off-brand Timberlands and Chanel pumps.

~~~

The hee hee and hur hur of the rich was uncomfortable and overly suffocating despite how big the venue for the party was. Was it that the rich felt the need to be shoulder to shoulder to make sure to rub off enough 'pardon me I have money' vibes on each other? Cerily knotted her brows as another male patreon bushed against her backside, pushing people out the way to get across the room. The lack of manners was evident with the amount of money one could throw away in one night. Cerily chugs down the glass of chardonnay like a despite teenager trying to get a fix. She was a new drinker, barley legal, every drink her aunt told her to sip was bitter or just tasted weird, but then came the fruity drinks and Cerily felt able to handle the adult lifestyle. If standing around in a formal gown being ignored by everyone but also touched someone meant she could live an inner teenage thrill of discovering adult drinks, then so be it and leave her be.

Fiddling with the straps of her body harness and rocking back and forth on her heels, Cerily sighed and looked around for another drink servent to attack. Maybe her aunt would notice her slight buzz and excuse both of them to go home. It wasn't that Cerily couldn't roll like the rest of them, it was just that she felt like an odd man out with these people. Even with her aunt being someone that fit inside her bubble of comfort, once they walked through the building doors, Morticia flipped a switch and became a Hollywood fashion vixen. In a room filled to the brim with people, Cerily felt alone.

"Is there no real wine here!" Cerily's attention, along with a few other's, was alerted to the sound of a furious woman. Cerily saw the woman from behind, and that was enough to know that the woman was clearly a sour thumb in this simpleton party. Black and white hair teased and hairspray up into and out like an 80s lion main. She wore a backless black dress, and a large black and white coat hung from her arms like a cape. When the woman turned around, pushing her hair up and shaking her shoulders a bit as if composing herself, Cerily gasped.

"Close your mouth, darling, she can sense when people are staring at her." Morticia pushed Cerily's jaw back up and patted the girl's shoulder. Madam Cruella De Vile stood in the centre of the room like a shark in a school of fish. She looked hungry, ready to rip and devour someone to nothing but little bitty pieces if they dared to even breath her way. Cruella leaned onto one leg, popping a hip out and resting an opera gloved hand on her waist. She looked dangerously incredible in her 3-inch heels that helped her already tall figure. It was always more intimidating when a tall woman wasn't afraid to add more height. Left men and even a few women unable to fathom the idea that even giraffe wanted to be closer to the clouds.

Cerily should have turned around when her aunt said something. She should have grabbed another drink and pretended to be in a conversation with the planet next to her if not the rich folk beside her. There were a few things Cerily could have done except stare at the devil in Prada. By the time she could close her mouth and blink Cruella had locked the poor girl in her sight and was pushing people out the way to get to her. Morticia luckily had noticed the incoming fireball and pushed her niece behind her and took her place as the target.

"De Vile, how wonderful to see you again." Morticia extended a hand to greet Cruella, but the older woman huffed and dismissed it.

"Morticia Weiler how unexpected of you to be here. I didn't know they allowed someone of your exotic taste here."

No one around them wanted to turned their attention to the scene. They only attuned their ears to hear the madness and the growing tension.

"Oh, I thought you knew, they've changed the social understanding of what is art and how it coincides with fashion. Clearly, you got the memo, you're here too." Morticia brought her rejected hand back to her side then crossed her arms, taking the upper hand away from the devil. Cruella gasped then frowned, the wrinkles on the corners of her mouth harden and made her face seem longer with disgust.

"Surely they didn't mean the "haute couture" you call underground fashion. Seems rather embarrassing to have you here among the big league when all you deal with is sex drugs and violence." Morticia tried not to falter at the insult as she stood tall and smiled. Cruella could feel the anger bubbling from deep inside the other, and it made her hunger. Cruella shook her head and pointed to Cerily. "That girl is wearing something extraordinary, and I want to talk to her. Not you, so move."

"Sure, but surely you wouldn't really want anything to do with my sweet delight niece." Morticia reached behind her and pulled the girl forward. Cerily clenched the glass in her hand and averted her eyes to the floor. Cruella looked the girl up and down and snapped her fingers. For some reason, Cerily head lifted, and her eyes looked forward. Her body felt out of her control and in some sort of wacky autopilot.

"What are you wearing?" Cruella demanded a respond.

"I made the dress myself, the harness if from my aunt." Cerily's mouth moved by itself, and the words came out from deep inside her.

"You....made this dress?" Cruella eyes widen as the sheer idea that some young designer like the girl in front of her could possibly make something so good. The dress was black and fell off the shoulders in gathered puddles of fabric, the neck fell into a deep v formation which allowed the right amount of cleavage to peak through. It was clear the dress was the off-brand but highly respectable cousin of the infamous Madame X painting. The harness was also a next touch as it was red and started right under the bust in rows of strips and fanning out at the hips. The embellishments were silver and had small charms of roses hanging from the ends. The spiked tiara looked Greek inspired, like Apollo's sunray crown, it was beautiful and shimmered when the girl turned her head. Cruella wanted to rip everything off the girl and walked away like an evil stepmother. But instead of allowing the girl to keep the destroyed dress, she would pluck it away and laugh if tears fell.

"She's a designer, up and coming, she'll be studying under me in the fall." Morticia interrupted, she brought a hand up to Cerily's eyes and swiped from right to left then down and up like an upside-down cross. Cerily felt her body slump slightly, her breathing quicken as she blinked rapidly and looked around. She then looked down at her glass, blaming it for her confusion and deciding that she no longer needed another drink.

"Stop that," Cruella mumbled, Morticia smiled and shook her head mouthing a 'no' only for Cruella to see. Cruella popped her coat from the crook of her elbows to over her shoulders. "Surely a young designer should be under proper care."

"She is."

"I am," Cerily commented and quickly closed her mouth when Cruella shot her a look. Cruella flared her nostrils then rolled her eyes, no need in working with a flop, she ruffled her hair and looked behind her. She smiled as she saw someone she's been waiting for. She turned back to the girl then reach inside her coat to a secret pocket and pull out a white business card that only had her company name on it in thin black letters. Cerily didn't want to be rude and took the card by the edges as if it was burning hot.

"If you wish to actually succeed in the world of fabric. Call me." Morticia wanted to swat the card away; her hand gripped Cerily shoulder, and she bit her lip to control herself. Cerily looked at the card as the shinny black letter shinned in the light. Then the words on the care burnt away to reveal more information. Cerily was amazed but also highly terrified at what she was witnessing. Was this even real?!

Cruella had already turned her back on the duo and swayed back over to where she was before. Creily watched her and when the other people of the party moved out the way her eyes locked in on the man Cruella was talking to. It was the man from downtown, now dressed in a steller white and black suit holding dresses in his arms and a bag in his hand. Cruella had to reach up a bit to pat the man's head. While doing so, the man looked over and smiled at Cerily as if they were old friends.

"Don't look at them darling, the devil loves attention." Morticia pulled Cerily away, declaring it was time for them to go home.


End file.
